


i don't care 'cause i'm running on air

by pettigrace



Series: Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Glee, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: (Somehow. I mean.), (a bit at least. Having two characters you relate to flirt is a weird experience.), Airports, Bilingual Character(s), Christmas, Flirting, Gen, Holidays, I suppose, M/M, Puns & Word Play, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, The author does not forget about Jesse's siblings for once, god how do I even tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 02:57:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12925845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pettigrace/pseuds/pettigrace
Summary: “What's your name?”, he asks instead, turning a little to face him.And suddenly, there's a big smile on the other’s face and he leans forward, looking more casual than protective as he extends a hand. “Jesse St James.”At that, Raphael can't hold back a real laughter. He shakes his hand, saying, “Raphael Santiago.” He chuckles even more at the apparent confusion of Jesse when he sees the smile go away in something close to slow-motion. “Sorry, it's just-- our last names are the same.”





	i don't care 'cause i'm running on air

**Author's Note:**

> My friend Pia sent me the following commission (paraphrased): Glee/Shadowhunters Crossover. Around Christmas, Raphael and Jesse run into each other in an airport.
> 
> The title is from Nathan Trent's "Running on Air".

If Raphael were any other person, he would have groaned out loud in response to his name being called out via speaker. He has, however, earned a certain amount of patience within the twenty years of his life - how else would he have been able to help his mother raise his siblings when he was barely ten himself? Sometimes you grow according to what life wants from you, and his own has shaped him more than you could imagine. 

And it may be a great nuisance to be called down to the info booth of the airport, but his flight’s not due to leave for another hour. He’s certain that there’s no way he’ll miss it, but there’s still the question of  _ why _ he’s even being summoned. He’s quite thorough when it comes to basically everything - but most of all, when it comes to travelling. Being as close with his family as he is, he doesn’t like being held up when it comes to flying down to Zacatecas.

He gulps as he starts making his way to the booth, remembering that one spectacular time he was even brought in for questioning. Of course, back then he didn’t do anything wrong either: He’d just had the luck of stumbling into one of the particularly racist people of New York. According to the guy it had been suspicious that there’d only been suits in his case and no sweaters. Raphael’s long given up on even  _ trying _ to understand what reasons people come up with to be awful to him.

At the very least, he’s glad he always travels a week before Christmas rather than closer to it - it means he also needs to leave soon after, but as long as he’s there  _ for _ the holidays, it’s good enough. And it’s definitely good for travelling because it means the airport isn’t  _ too _ full; it’s as full as it’s normal for New York City.

He earns a few elbows to the sides (and, considering his height, to his face, too, once or twice) but he’s not too soft either as he fights his way through the crowds of people. And, given the way he started in New York as a waiter, it’s not like he’s not used to it. Sure, it’s become less and less now that he’s the assistant to Camille Belcourt, a woman who parts the crowd with her mere presence, but some things stay with you. He knows he’s more lucky than anything to even still have his current job (he’d thought that she’d fire him when Magnus broke up with her, seeing how he was the one who got him the job, but thankfully he’s been too good at his profession).

He’s glad when there’s no line when he arrives at the info at last and he can step up to the old worker without further ado.

“Raphael Santiago,” he says briefly, taking out his wallet to show her his ID. “I was called here?”

“Ah, yes, Mr Santiago.” Internally, Raphael applauds her almost correct pronunciation of his last name. Usually old people struggle with it. “It appears that there has been a problem with your luggage.”

Raphael frowns. He can’t recall having packed anything that could cause any trouble. Apart from clothing and books, there’s only the necklace he’s bought for his mother, the dress for Rosa and the new snow globe for Ricardo. Of course, all of these are packed separately, wrapped into a thick layer of paper, but there’s no way they could be confused with something like bombs or the like. But well, they probably took a look at his suitcase, then one at his name and just assumed without looking any closer.

“In fact, it has been confused with the one of someone else.”, the woman continues before he can utter anything about his assumed accusations. His eyes follow her line of sight to a few counters next to him, where another young man stands.

Raphael takes him in for a few moments. He’s taller than him, of course, since that isn’t too difficult, but also quite broader. He’s still on the thin side but Raphael supposes he’s packing more muscles than he does himself. From the side, the face looks sharp, although half of it is hidden by a mop of curls (albeit one that is not as bad as Raphael’s would be if he left it untamed). His clothes don’t look as formal as Raphael’s, but with the grey blazer he’s wearing he does almost look professional. He can’t help but wonder if the guy does  _ not  _ go on Christmas vacation.

“We’re doing our best to retrieve it.”, the woman continues, catching his attention again. “If you’ll wait until it arrives here and take a look as to check that nothing happened to it?”

He’d already wondered why they didn’t just change it back without alerting him as long as the other plane didn’t start yet. “Oh, yes, of course.” When it appears she doesn’t have to add anything else, he tells her, “Thank you”, and steps over to the waiting isle.

The other guy argues a bit with the worker he’s talking to, using his whole body as he replies. It almost seems like he’s underlining his words with his hands, as if he were acting it out. 

Even the way he lets his arms slump down at the sides of his body once he’s finished seems almost like it’s been choreographed. Raphael, who spent most of his life learning how to make himself seem as small as possible and only recently regained the confidence he lost during childhood, can’t help but scowl at the sight. Sometimes he wishes he were more open when it comes to moving his body - not as clumsily as Simon, of course, he wouldn’t want to accidentally knock things down just by telling about his day, but he’d like to lose some of his reservation.

He can even see how the guy sighs dramatically,  _ of course _ , as he turns away from the counter. Raphael supposes that the worker must have pointed the guy towards him (he honestly hasn’t paid any attention to her, actually) because it can’t be a coincidence how he narrows his eyes as soon as he spots him and starts walking.

In return, Raphael braces himself for a heated conversation. Who knows, maybe the guy will actually try to put the blame on him, even though he doesn’t even look actually angry - just as annoyed as Raphael feels, maybe. The thin lips are pressed together and his brows are pulled together, hands put into fists.

Fitting to Raphael’s previous impression, he throws himself onto the leather seat next to Raphael and even  _ puts an arm over his eyes _ . Somehow, those dramatics seems worse than Magnus’. It’s been quite a while since he met someone like that, but he’s sure enough he’s just been thrown together with an aspiring actor.

“This is  _ awful _ ,” he drawls, letting out a deep sigh.

Raphael inhales sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. “Mistakes happen.”, he says, sending a glance upwards. He hopes he won’t have to spend too much time with this man - he doubts the good looks make up for his exaggerating nature.

At that, the guy sits up straighter and puts his arm down in the safe moment. Instead he puts it down on the seat next to him and uses it, along with the other hand, to prop himself up even more. He raises an eyebrow at Raphael as if he hadn’t noticed him before, and in response he really has to fight his inner urge to snap.

“It’s already bad enough that I have to go to  _ Ohio _ , of all things, and now even the flight there causes nothing but problems.”, the guy continues, his voice somehow both soft and sharp. 

“Well,” Raphael reasons, slowly feeling himself get more pissed off, “I’m sure there’s enough other flights within the states, so even if you missed  _ this _ one--”

“Where are you going?”, the guy cuts in. When Raphael meets his clear blue eyes, he’s met with a mixture of actual interest and boredom. It’s fascinating, somehow.

“Mexico.”, Raphael tells him. He could tell him the state, as well, just like the guy had done, but he’s met his fair share of ignorant white people who didn’t even know Mexico consisted of states as well. 

“Getting away from the holidays?”, the guy assumes.

Raphael snorts softly. “Going home  _ for _ the holidays.”

“Ah, yeah. Me too.”, the man shrugs. “I didn’t mean to assume - my ex was Jewish and always got really angry when people just assumed she’d celebrate Christmas.”

Raphael lets out a small chuckle at that. He knows that feeling well. While he isn't the most outgoing person, his mamá has raised him with appropriate manners. So usually, he sends out some Christmas greeting the day before Christmas, wishing everyone a good holiday. That is, until two years ago when Simon had called him in return and giving his best impression of a lecture. Ever since then he's added a small ‘if you celebrate!’ into the message. He remembers the way Magnus had laughed at him when he told him about that.

Because it seems fitting, he returns the question, “You going to visit the family, too?”

“Something like that.”, the guy responds and pulls a leg against his chest, putting the shoe down on the leather. 

Raphael halfway thinks of calling him out on it - what an asshole do you have to be to put your wet boots (it's already a surprise the guy would wear expensive Italian ones in such weather) onto  _ any _ surface other than the floor? - but he also recognizes when you shield yourself. When you don't like talking about home, even when you're on your way there. “What's your name?”, he asks instead, turning a little to face him. 

And suddenly, there's a big smile on the other’s face and he leans forward, looking more casual than protective as he extends a hand. “Jesse St James.”

At that, Raphael can't hold back a real laughter. He shakes his hand, saying, “Raphael Santiago.” He chuckles even more at the apparent confusion of Jesse when he sees the smile go away in something close to slow-motion. “Sorry, it's just-- our last names are the same.”

Jesse blinks at him.

Raphael sighs, getting some air before explaining, “Santiago is the Spanish name for Saint James.” It makes sense now that their suitcases have been confused, he gathers. Sometimes he finds himself not knowing what language he’d read something in either, simply because he's fluent in both.

“Oh,” Jesse makes. He’s still frowning as he says, “I didn’t take a language in High School.”

Raphael sends him an amused smirk. It could be fun to act like he’s not that easy to read. Jesse probably doesn’t even realize how much the drama is ingrained into his every movement. “Hm, let me guess: jock?”

He can’t even hide his grin at the irritated look he gets. “Theatre kid.”, Jesse responds seriously. “Though I suppose those two don’t negate each other. I know a guy who did both lacrosse and glee in High School… Anyway, what about you?”

“Choir.”, Raphael tells him.

Jesse gives him another smile, almost a smirk of his own, as he moves his eyes over his body. Raphael can’t say that he doesn’t like the attention. “Also piano, huh?”

“How’d you know?”

“Intuition,” Jesse grins. “Got an eye for fellow musicians.”

Raphael raises an eyebrow. “So not just theatre but  _ musical theatre _ ?”

“Naturally.”, Jesse nods. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, indicating actual excitement he feels about it. Raphael guesses that must mean he’s actually good at it - they seem to be about the same age, Jesse maybe has a few years on him, so if he was bad, he probably would have realized by now. “I actually came here for Broadway.”

“I see,” Raphael says. “And how did that work out?” He tries to keep his voice as neutral as possible. He doesn’t know if he can tease Jesse like they tease Simon - because with Simon they know he’s gotten moderate success. But what if Jesse’s struggling a lot? It would be awful to joke about that.

“Quite well. Got a few gigs Off-Broadway so far.”, Jesse shrugs. Raphael can tell that he’s not completely happy about it, but it’s better than nothing. Then his face lights up again. “Listen, I also work at that karaoke bar, you should stop by some time!”

“A… karaoke bar.”, Raphael repeats slowly. Of course, it  _ would _ fit to what he’s learnt about Jesse so far.

“It’s, like,  _ the  _ big place for NYADA students. People who later  _ became _ Broadway stars.”, Jesse continues, eager to defend it. “Of course, it’s still karaoke. So if you’re no good at singing, that’s okay, too.”

“I  _ was _ in choir.”, Raphael reminds him. 

“Yeah, so was my brother, and he fucking sucks.”, Jesse shoots back. “Anyway, if you  _ can _ sing, even better! I’d love to hear that little voice of yours.”

Raphael snorts at that, not sure if that’s an attempt at flirting or not. He tries to avoid going out,  _ partying _ , as much as possible - it’s come to the point where Magnus has to drag him out. But he supposes he could tell either him or Simon about that place, they’d probably enjoy it. 

“Tell you what,” Jesse continues, “I’ll add you on facebook and then I can send you details, all that stuff.”

“Eager to see me again?”, Raphael can’t help but answer, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Jesse leans to the side, breaching the distance between them some more. Then, quietly, he says, “Well, we  _ do _ have the same last name. I think that counts for something.”

“Travellers amongst themselves.”, Raphael muses. Again, Jesse looks a bit confused in response, so he takes pity on him. “He’s the patron of pilgrims.”

“Oh, how fitting.”, Jesse replies thoughtfully. He opens his mouth to say something else when someone appears in front of them.

“Sirs, your luggage arrived here. Would you like to take a look at it?” It’s the woman who’d talked to Raphael earlier, looking a bit embarrassed about interrupting them. 

Raphael can't suppress a soft sigh when he turns towards her, before coming to his senses and forming a smile. Even if she does interrupt a surprisingly pleasant conversation, she's still just doing her job. “Thank you.”, he tells her as he gets up, stepping closer to her.

Jesse's close by, following his steps and muttering his thanks as well. He doesn't sound too happy about their interruption either, even though he had been the one whining about the delay in his departure. 

Raphael doesn't suppose anyone would have gone through his things, but since they already insisted on bringing the cases here, he figures it's best to open it anyway. With an appreciating nod he notices that Jesse has put his clothes down as nearly as he'd done, so neither of them really goes through everything. It seems fine anyway.

Raphael closes his suitcase after a few moments and grants the worker another smile. “It’s alright. But  _ please _ ,” he tells her seriously, “put it in the right plane now. Zacatecas. Flight DL481.”

“Yeah, of course.”, she says quickly, takes the case and stags away with it quickly. 

Raphael follows her with his eyes for a bit, whistling through his teeth. “Well, that was an exit.”

“Right.”, Jesse nods. He smiles politely when the one who’d been responsible for him appears and hands her his suitcase as well. “DL4025. Thank you.”

Raphael watches as he straightens his back, pulling back the broad shoulder and sighing softly. Jesse may be just wearing something  _ close  _ to a suit jacket, but seeing him like that, he feels like he’s underdressed. How is that even possible? The guy’s working in a karaoke bar, for God’s sake. 

He averts his eyes quickly when Jesse turns to him, putting his hands on his hips. At first Raphael expects a lecture for reminding them what flight is the right one, but then he realizes Jesse looks more relaxed than anything like that.

“Well, I suppose this means goodbye.”, Jesse says. There’s only a small hint of dramatics in his voice while he says that, but then he adds, “I did mean that with facebook, though. Raphael, was it?”

Raphael nods. “Looking forward to having an actor in my friend list.”

Apparently that was exactly the right thing to say because Jesse just  _ beams _ at him. His smile doesn’t show his teeth, but it’s a wide one, one that meets his eyes and -  _ yes _ , at least he’s really passionate. He even holds out his hand in return. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Likewise.” Raphael takes his hand, shaking it curtly. “Well, your flight leaves soon, right? You better go, fellow Saint.”

Jesse snorts as he lets go off his hand, and then he turns and strolls off. Raphael notices, as he watches him, that sometimes self-confidence is rather attractive.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Please leave a comment!**  
>  If you liked this, come check out my [tumblr](http://joanthangroff.tumblr.com) or talk to me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/Ll4MDUNBAR).


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